The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Jeffrey stared at the house from a distance, intently, watching the solitary light, waiting, waiting patiently, ignoring the raindrops falling all about him, ignoring the cool night wind, ignoring all but the house in the distances. He’d been waiting for this night now for twelve years. Twelve, long, agonizing, painful years. He’d waited enough. Tonight was the night.

Twelve years ago, he’d lived in that house. It had been a long and brutal experience, the youngest in a family of four, the son of that woman’s first husband, back when he was married to Sherri, his REAL mom... back when they had been a family before that awful car accident. His father had grieved, as had Jeffrey, but grief lasts only so long. His father, alone with a five year old son, lonely for companionship, married again, to HER, started a new family, raised three more kids. Then tragedy struck again, this time, at his job. A loose beam falling at the building his construction company was building. His step-mother cashed in on the wrongful death, and Jeffrey was left to grieve for another dead parent.

They’d moved out of the old house and into the large grand manor house standing a few feet away from him now. Rich, wealthy at the age of twenty, she was not suited for the life of a responsible mother of four. The younger children she placed under the care of a nanny. They were her offspring, after all. But Jeffrey, who wasn’t even technically hers, she treated with no respect at all. Anything that went wrong, he was to blame. Anything that happened, he was yelled at. He was beaten at her slightest whim, and barely kept clothed or fed unless absolutely necessary. He became withdrawn and introverted, and though he was very smart, his grades in school declined drastically. Which only served to gain him further abuse from his step-mom.

Once he turned age sixteen, Jeffrey ran away, living better on the streets than he had in his own home. He met up with a gang of toughs, and formed a friendship of sorts. He was raped, taken by force from behind by a man high on drugs just before his seventeenth birthday. He committed his first murder three months thereafter, when he and his friends found the bastard that raped him. A short run-in with the police saw him in Juvie for the rest of the year, charged with possession of a gun, although the police never found a way to tie him in with the murder victim. (His street friends were to thank for that.)

Fast forward to last year. He and a few of his friends had been ‘recruited’ to test a new experimental drug that was about to hit the streets. Skeptical at first at the offer of getting PAID to get high, he and several of his friends tried the drug. The results were disastrous. Of the fifteen kids that tried the drug, only three lived. Of the three, two had been rendered mindless vegetables from the severe strokes they’d had. Jeffrey had been the sole exception.

Naturally, the dealers wanted to know how Jeffrey managed to survive; more so, they needed to make sure that he didn’t turn stoolie and rat them out. Faced with the choices of being iced and studied in a lab, or being iced to keep him quiet, Jeffrey picked choice number three. The dealers still lived, probably, somewhere deep in the city, but selling any more drugs was the last thing on their minds.

Literally.

Happy fucking birthday to me.

Twenty-one years old to day, Jeffrey had returned to take revenge on the woman that had tormented him all his young life. He would deal with her now, as he’d dreamed of doing all those long hard years under her thumb, those wild free years sleeping in abandoned shacks and in cardboard boxes on the streets, and that dreadful year in Juvie. He’d finally come full circle. He was home again.

The prodigal son returns. Yeah right.

Jeffrey waited, watching intently, staring up at the single light in the window of his house. Watching. Waiting. Ignoring the rain and the wind, oblivious to everything else. Then, finally, the light went out. Jeffrey smiled. His waiting was now over.

Vanessa Hardgrove kicked her fuzzy pink slipped off her pedicured pink feet, slid out of her pink designer bathrobe, and slid under the pink satin covers of her bed. She placed the pink velvet mask over her eyes to block out every trace of light, ensuring she would have a good night’s sleep tonight. Tomorrow morning she would be appearing on appearing on TV, ‘Good Morning, Jacksonville’, where she would be receiving the city’s prestigious Humanitarian Award for all the money she’d donated to the city over the past five years (as a tax break, just barely kept her out of the higher tax bracket). It simply wouldn’t do to appear before America with bags under her eyes. She needed her beauty sleep.

Truth be told, the young blonde thirty year old looked stunning, better preserved than many TWENTY year olds. To look at her lineless face and her perfectly sculpted body, one would never guess her to be the widowed mother of three. Of course, being wealthy, she was able to afford herself the best of care, weekly visits to the spa, for facials, manicures, and pedicures, monthly full body wraps, and a relaxing stress-free vacation in the French Riviera twice a year.

Yes, she thought dreamily as she settled into a comfortable position. Life is good. Old Jim Myers’ final gift to me has certainly come in handy. Wasn’t much of a lover, but yawn he was one HELL of a provider.

She drifted off into a comfortable dream, one with blurry images and ideas, coming too quick to really even focus on, the usual half-remembered montage of normal REM sleep. Slowly, but surely, the fog dissipated, and cleared, and Vanessa opened her eyes to see a beautiful garden before her, full of flowers of many shapes and sizes. Broken marble pillars littered the landscape, and in the far off distance, she thought she glimpsed the Parthenon.

Hmmm. Must be Greece, she thought to herself. I’m in Greece. I remember this field now. I was here last summer on vacation. Indeed, glancing down at herself, she saw that she was decked out in a white toga, the thin white sheet barely covering her body’s most private assets. Finding it all still perfectly normal, she padded off, barefoot, through the flowerbed, exploring the site of the ancient ruins. Along one of the sides of a fallen pillar ran a series of gnarled, twisted vines, sporting some of the most beautiful flowers she’d ever seen. She plucked one, wincing slightly as a thorn pricked her finger. Sucking lightly on her finger, she placed the flower in her hair.

“Careful of the thorns,” a man said, stepping into view. He stood just shy of six feet, short cut black hair, a well-chiseled visage, and a slender, yet powerful frame. Vanessa took this all in at a glance, and smiled prettily as he moved towards her. Without pause her took her hand, gazing down at the prick, and shook his head.

“I’ve never yet met a rose that didn’t have a thorn somewhere.” He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it gently. “My name is Arhmand. What brings you here to my little garden, Miss...?”

“Hardgrove. Vanessa Hardgrove,” the young blonde said demurely. “I dunno, I was just walking along, taking in the local scenery...”

Arhmand smiled. “So, checking out the scenery, eh? Let me guess... American? Young. Very beautiful.” Vanessa giggled softly. “I have it! You’re a fashion model here for a photo shoot.”

She laughed again, utterly charmed by him. “No, but I thank you for the comment. No, I’m the owner of my own business, Hardgrove Enterprises. I’m just here for some sun, some fun, and a bit of local color,” she replied, eyeing him deliciously. Arhmand chuckled.

“Well, you’ll find all the sun you ever wanted here, in Greece,” he said, gesturing about. “Local color, well, we have plenty of that too. The culture, the history, all of it! But fun...” he licked his lips. “I think I can help you with that one myself.”

He led her along the winding trail, back to the main road, where a small car awaited. “Allow me the pleasure of taking you on a tour of my city. We’ll see the sights, we’ll eat dinner at this lovely little place I know—the food there is excellent! We’ll talk, we’ll drink wine, we’ll dance, we’ll drink wine. More dancing, more wine, and well, we’ll see where the night takes us!” Delighted, she accompanied the man, hopping into his car.

At home, sound asleep in her bed, Vanessa smiled. She had lived these events one year ago on a trip abroad. She’d met the dashing Arhmand, who had swept her off her feet. After a wonderful night on the town, they spent an even better night in her hotel room. He had been a recurring figure in most of her fantasies ever since.

Unknown to her, Jeffrey stood only a few feet away, watching her sleep so soundly, noting the smile grow in her face as he monitored her dreams. It was interesting to watch, seeing the rich full life she lived, the exotic places to which she traveled, and the fascinating people she met along the way. It was a life that he’d deserved, that should have been his, but had been denied to him by the selfish bitch sleeping helplessly before him, mere inches away. A part of him considered simply reaching down, taking her by the throat and squeezing, choking the very life out of her... but he held that deep desire in check.

“No,” he said softly, “that’d be too easy. You don’t deserve to get off that easy. No, what I have planned for you, dear mother, is so much better. I want to watch you slowly, painfully, succumb to what I’m doing to you. I want to be there to see the exact moment when you snap. I want to see the look in your eyes when you realize who it was that destroyed your life.”

Vanessa frowned, murmuring in her sleep, turning over. Jeffrey went silent. It would ruin his well laid plans if she awoke too soon. He stood there, silent, motionless, until she settled back down into deep sleep once more. Then, smiling again, he took a step forward, placed a single finger to her forehead and said simply, “Now.”

Vanessa frowned, shaking her head.

“Are you okay?” Arhmand asked, peering over at her. “Is something wrong?”

Vanessa shook her head a few times to clear it of the momentary dizziness. “Y-yes, I’m fine. Guess a whole bottle of wine between the two of us WAS a bit much.” She put her hotel key into the door and turned the handle. “Welcome to my home away from home!”

Instead of her hotel room, the door opened to the outside. Green grass and trees greeted her, and as she stood there in shock, glancing around the area, she noticed a small group of people gathered around underneath a small partition. They were all wearing black. Suddenly, Vanessa knew where she was.

“Oh God no!” she shook her head in denial. “The cemetery!”

As she watched, frozen in place, the pallbearers carried Jim Myers’ casket to the grave site, to the waiting mound of dirt prepared to hold him till eternity. His few friends and co-workers were gathered around, all dressed in black. She saw herself there as well, dressed in black—stylish black, a little gift to herself from the settlement money from the construction company and her insurance policy on Jim. She was a wealthy woman now, and even though her husband was dead, it was very hard to pretend to be mournful.

She stood and watched herself sitting there on the first row, feigning tears, as the Pastor carried out the last rights. Her younger self half-sobbed, and the man beside her, a co-worker of Jim’s, put his arms around her. Young Vanessa immediately noticed him, his broad shoulders, his somber yet warm face, his rugged good looks. She found a smile forming on her face, and squeezed the man’s arms holding her. Under other circumstances, she would have liked to have taken him out for a test drive. Still, she did pull him close, murmuring a soft ‘thank you’, before placing a small kiss on his lips... and feeling up his crotch. The man gasped in surprise, but Vanessa played it off, looking innocently back towards the preacher.

Jim’s co-worker, after a moment, placed his arm around her again, but comforting her was the last thing on his mind. Vanessa smiled sensuously, moving into the half embrace, enjoying the feel of him. The moment seemed to stretch on into infinity, the preacher, the corpse, the rest of the crowd fading softly into the background. Then, glancing to the side, she saw HIM. The boy. Little Jeffy. He looked at her, stared at her, with a look of pure disgust and horror. Only nine years old, but he somehow seemed to understand the subtle flirtation going on with her and the construction worker. His accusing eyes told the story, forcing her to acknowledge what she was doing. He knew, and he had judged her. The disgust and horror was etched into his face.

At that moment her hate for him began. She turned away, straightening up again, pulling away from the man’s not-so-subtle advances, the moment lost. She glanced sidelong at the boy again, and saw him, still staring at her, still staring.

Vanessa, the real Vanessa, felt her heart flutter in her chest as she watched the past unfolding. The boy. That damn boy. She hadn’t thought of him in years, since the little pest ran away from home. Why was he here now?

As if attracted by her musings, the boy slowly turned, glancing towards her now. Their eyes locked, and a slow, wicked smile spread across his lips. Vanessa felt her heart beating wildly in her chest. This was insane! She tried to turn away from those accusing eyes, tried to deny the truth in them, to turn away, to run and not look back, but it was as if she was frozen, her feet incased in lead. Little Jeffy smiled wider, and mouthed words at her, words she somehow heard in her mind, clear as a bell.

Layers upon layers.

Her attention shifted to something coming up behind her. A presence. Finally able to move, she turned around to find—

Jim. Myers. Big Jim Myers. DEAD Jim Myers. He stood there, just as she’d last seen him all those years ago. The coroner had done a wonderful job with what he’d had to work with, but there was only so much you could do to a body crushed by a half-ton steel girder. He looked at his wife with soulless white eyes, and smiled, the steel wires and nylon stitches holding his face together twisting somewhat with the movement. His gray corpse-flesh touched her, caressed her face the way he always had, only now, leaving a trail of dirt and maggots in its wake. Vanessa shuddered in stark terror, shaking her head no, no, no.

It’s a dream! It has to be a dream! It HAS to be a dream!

Then Jim laughed softly, the motion expelling yellow embalming fluid from his mouth. “Now, that’s hardly a way to greet your loving husband, is it, ‘Nessy?” he gurgled. “How about a little kiss, sweetheart?” He pursed his lips, and moved slowly towards her mouth.

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO—

“NOOOOOOO!!!” Vanessa screamed, sitting up in bed, covered in sweat. Her heart was beating a mile a minute, and she couldn’t seem to catch her breath.

Strong arms reached out to her, and she screamed again, leaping from the bed, falling to the floor in a tangle of sheets. “Hey, easy, Vanessa, easy,” Arhmand said, holding his hands up in submission. “It’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt you! It was just a bad dream. It’s over now.”

Everything came back to her now. The room. Arhmand. Greece. The flowers. She had come into the room, drunk off her ass, and she and Arhmand had fucked like rabbits, falling asleep in each others arms. The dream, the nightmare... even now, fading into some dark nebulous thing that she couldn’t remember... must have been the fancy cuisine and an overabundance of wine. Shaken, still anxious, Vanessa managed a small smile.

“Sorry, love,” she said, climbing back into bed. “It was just so real! I felt like I was there, when... when... uhm, well I can’t really remember what happened now. But it scared the hell out of me.”

“Well,” he replied, pulling her into a tight deep embrace, “let’s see if Arhmand can help you feel better.” They kissed, and Vanessa winced a bit, as if expecting something... bad. Arhmand noticed and sighed. “I see you’re REALLY uptight over what happened, eh? Fine then... this calls for extreme measures.” With that, he lifted Vanessa up into his lap, lay back down on the bed, and slid her onto his stiff, ready cock. Vanessa groaned in pleasure.

Within minutes, Vanessa was consumed with passion, her once vivid nightmare faded into oblivion. Riding the Greek stallion in her bed, she felt herself cresting, as that familiar pleasant feeling began to approach once more. “Oh, Yes, Yes!” she began to chant, feeling herself near her breaking point. Her eyes fluttered closed as Arhmand began that deep, rhythmic thrusting she loved so well. “Oh God!” she cried, arching her back as she began to peak. “YEAH BABY! YEAH JUST LIKE THAT JUST LIKE THAT YESS YESSS DON’T STOP DON’T STOP DON’T STOP!! AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!” she cried as she came...

Layers upon layers.

Vanessa gasped, sitting up. She was back in her bedroom, her OWN bedroom, at home. She was alone. She sighed softly rubbing her face to find them sticky with her juices. She groaned as an aftershock ran through her body, and her hands returned to her juice filled cunt. Her eyes closed, and she sighed softly, trying to recapture the sweet dream she’d had.

Mmmm. Oh fuck, it’s been too long since I’ve had a good stiff cock in my twat.

She teased and stroked her wet puffy lips a bit, languishing in the ebb and flow of her passion. There were times when she enjoyed a furious, invigorating fuck, going all out, desperate to make herself cum, but most of the time she wanted a soft, steady build-up, a slow burn, that lead always to a raging inferno once final release was granted. Her fingers rubbed over her clit, making it pulse with sensation.

Yeeeahhhh... ohhhh... that’s good. Mmmm. It’s a wonder that most men can’t grasp that concept. Sometimes, what a woman wants is a long, drawn out experience, not a damn continental ‘Minute Man’.

Funny that she’d never considered that before. Of all the men she’d fucked after her marriage—hell, even DURING her marriage, if she was honest with herself, BIG Jim hadn’t been THAT big after all—none of them had truly been able to satisfy that itch between her legs. Oh, sure, they managed to hammer it down a bit, to beat it into submission for a time or two, but in the end, they always fell a few lengths short of truly setting her free.

“Maybe you just need a different KIND of lover.”

“What?” Vanessa yelled, whipping around at the voice. A man stepped forward, tall, wearing an overcoat and hat, his face and features utterly hidden. “Wh...who are you?” she cried, clutching the sheet over herself. “How did you get into my house? EDNA!! RONALD!! Someone!! There’s an intruder in my room!!”

The man laughed. “Yell all you want. All you’ll get for your troubles is a sore throat. We’re here alone right now. I thought it might be nice to have a little bonding time, you know, a little mother-and-son moment.” He chuckled darkly. “Of course, I don’t think you’d really qualify as a mother to me, considering the way you all but tossed me out on my ear.”

Vanessa gasped. “Jeffrey.”

“In the flesh,” he said, stepping forward. “You seem surprised to see me. Surely you knew I’d come back one day? You used to say it every time one of my half-brothers asked about me. ‘He’ll be back someday, the little fuck, crawling, begging to come back, to live here and mooch off MY money.’ Well, I didn’t CRAWL back, and I’m not here to beg... and we both know it was MY money, not yours, although you convinced the lawyers that it would be better served placed in your hands so you could... ‘provide Jeffy with what he needs’. Hah. As if I needed to be deprived of love and attention, and the heritage my father had left to me.”

Vanessa crawled back away as far as she could. “What do you want from me, Jeffrey?” she said, quailing. “If you hurt me, if you attack me, there won’t be a place on earth where you can hide!”

Jeffrey laughed coldly. “Hurt you? Why ‘Mommie Dearest’ I would never even DREAM of hurting you. I am only here to visit you a while, to get to know you better, to see the kind of woman you really are. So far, you are now showing me anything new. You still appear to be the same selfish, shallow, self-involved bitch you were when my dad fell in love with you.”

“Why you little shit!” She snarled. “How DARE you break in here, come into my house, my bedroom, in the middle of the night and talk to me this way! How dare you judge me! How dare you...” Her words caught in her throat as he looked at her, that same, cold, calculating look she’d given him years ago, the same look he’d stared at her with in her dream, forgotten until now.

“I see,” Jeffrey said coldly. “You’re a twisted little thing aren’t you? I’d hoped at the very least that you had at least the good sense to be afraid, to perhaps TRY and beg for your life, show some semblance of sorrow, of regret! But no, I was right all along. All you are is a selfish little bitch, clinging to her own deluded feelings of righteous indignation. Very well. Cling to those beliefs while you have them. I’m bored with this little stroll down memory lane anyway.”

Vanessa gulped, her anger burned away in the face of his cold calculated words. “What are you going to do to me?” she asked.

Jeffery actually smiled. “Nothing. Not a goddamn thing. I’ve already done it. I just wanted to know whether or not I should stop it.” He moved to the door, and paused before leaving.

“Layers upon layers.”

Vanessa groaned, eyes wide, as something inside her mind TWISTED, like a surgeon’s clamp clutching her gray matter, squeezing, twisting, scrambling her mind in ways she couldn’t begin to imagine...

Layers upon layers...

Vanessa clutched her head, moaning softly.

“Are you okay?” Arhmand asked, peering over at her. “Is something wrong?”

Vanessa shook her head a few times to clear it of the momentary dizziness. “Y-yes, I’m fine. Guess a whole bottle of wine between the two of us WAS a bit much.” She put her hotel key into the door and turned the handle. “Welcome to my home away from—”

She paused. Her hand slipped off the doorknob. Suddenly, she was afraid to open the door, somehow, in some way, knowing, KNOWING, that he room wasn’t there, that something else... something unspeakably horrible, awaited her on the other side of that door.

“Vanessa? Are you SURE you’re okay? You are starting to worry me.”

She shook of the momentary lapse, and smiled. “You know what, let’s go to YOUR room instead, okay? My place is a mess, the service here is just dreadful, simply dreadful.”

Shrugging, Arhmand, led her back down to the car, and drove to his home. Wasting little time, they entered the bedroom, and stripped naked, languishing at the sight of each others’ perfectly sculpted bodies. “Make yourself at home, ‘Nessy,” he said moving down the hall to the kitchen. “I’ll be back with the champagne in a moment.”

“’Nessy? No one’s called me that name except...

“Arhmand? What did you just call me?” No answer. “Arhmand?”

The fine hairs on Vanessa’s neck began to prickle, and moving anxiously to the hallway, she glanced around, calling out his name again. “ARHMAND! Where did you go?”

“Right behind you, lover,” he whispered into her ear, running his hands over her naked body, making her gasp both in surprise and arousal. Vanessa turned, giggling.

“That was a mean trick. Where were you—OHMIGOD!!!”

“I was right where you left, me, dear,” Jim gurgled, clutching her shocked wife tightly in his embrace. “Deep in the ground. The cemetery. I missed you sooo much ‘Nessy.” He kissed her protesting mouth, and Vanessa nearly retched from the smell.

“NO! NO! NO!” she screamed, breaking free of his grasp, stumbling, crawling back away from him as fast as she could. “You’re DEAD! You’re not here! This isn’t real!”

“Of course it is, sweetheart. Remember? I always used to tell you how much I loved you... that I’d love you to the grave and beyond.” He shuffled forward, leaving clumps of dirt, worms, and bits of gray mottled flesh on the floor. Vanessa felt the wall against her back. There was nowhere to run.

He reached her, touched her with his filthy disgusting worm hands, lifter her, and placed her on the bed. She immediately tried to roll over and run out the door, but found herself up against the wall again. Turning the other direction she saw that she was boxed in, literally, that the bed had somehow become a coffin, and that she had been lowered inside.

NO NO NO NO NO!! Oh GOD I am losing my fucking mind!!

“Ladies and gentlemen,” a familiar voice spoke from above, “we are gathered here to pay our final respects to a woman whose passing we shall sorely miss.” Vanessa nearly swooned as she recognized the voice as that of the preacher from Big Jim’s funeral. “She was a lovely young woman,” he droned on in that boring monotone voice of his, “beautiful, rich, blessed with a man that loved her dearly, and provided for her. But ladies and gentlemen, was that enough for her? Was the ungrateful bitch satisfied? No, my friends, she was not!”

He moved, looking down at her, his old worn face alight with accusation. “SINNER! Harlot! Whore! You were unfaithful to this man, this loving caring man! You never loved him, never appreciated him at all. You took from him, and from everyone around you, to please and pleasure yourself! When he died, when he left this world, his only wish was to see that you, and his son, were taken care of, provided for. He left you enough to support you for years, but that wasn’t enough for you! Oh no! You stole the money left to his son, his only offspring, adding his to your own pile, and threw him out! Tossed the child to the wolves, to fend for himself!”

Vanessa shook her head in denial. This couldn’t be happening to her.

“And so, dear friends,” the Pastor said mournfully, “we must remit her wicked, wicked soul into eternity.” He slid the lid of the coffin closed, ignoring her frantic screams. “Thus, what came from the earth is thus returned to the earth.”

NO NO NO NO NO!!!

“Ashes to ashes...”

PLEASEGODPLEASEGODPLEASEGOD!!

“Dust to dust...”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIEEEEEE!!

“Layers upon layers...”

The bottom dropped out of the casket, and Vanessa fell, screaming madly, her grip on reality, gone, her grip on sanity, slipping fast. Down below, the bowels of hell opened up to great her, and she fell through huge torrents of flame, swan diving into a lake of fire and brimstone... shattering the glass plate and falling through the jagged hole back into her bedroom once more.

The woman on the bed looked up, pausing only a moment in her frantic relentless fucking to gaze down at herself. Vanessa granted herself a wicked smile, groaning in pleasure, as her lover brought her again and again to the brink. “Ohhh... yess... just in time,” she panted to her other self, sprawled painfully on the floor. “I’m sooo close... so close... just a little more... just need a little push... uuughh... to send me over... the edge!”

Vanessa made it to her feet, brushing the shattered glass from her body, and morbidly curious, peered down at the person her other self was fucking in the bed. Her eyes went wide, then closed tightly, trying to blot out the image now burned into her retinas forever.

She was fucking Dead Jim Myers.

Grey flesh, and pus, and yellow fluid, and dirt covered the woman’s lower body, as she vigorously humped the dead decaying corpse, a look of complete ecstasy on her face. Maggots dropped from the body, pushed out from the intense pressure of the woman straddling it, slamming her hips repeatedly into the dead man’s crotch.

The Vanessa standing beside the bed sighed softly, eyes closed, and slumped to the floor. A loud CRACK sounded just then, booming, as if nearby thunder had sounded. A slow smile spread across her face, and her eyes, clenched tightly, relaxed and opened, staring ahead blindly. Three soft words escaped her drool covered lips:

“Layers upon layers...”

At the exact same time, on the bed, Vanessa let out a keening cry as she came harder than she ever had before. That itch, that feeling, that small hole inside her that could never quite be filled, disappeared. She felt, sated. Satisfied. Fulfilled. Panting, exhausted, out of breath, she slid off her lover’s cock, and rolled over, kissing his lips gently.

“Damn, but you’re a good fuck,” Jeffrey said, catching his breath. “Now I can see why dear old dad married you.”

Vanessa smiled softly, her glazed eyes twinkling with pleasure. She’d just been complimented, and she loved compliments, even if she didn’t understand the words anymore. Jeffrey rolled over, stretching a bit, and got to his feet.

“You know, I enjoyed this more than I thought,” he told the insensate, insane, unintelligent THING looking up at him with adoring eyes. He slid a hand over her hot wet slit, sending shivers of delight through her body. He chuckled. “You see how much more enjoyable life is when your every thought isn’t centered around pleasing yourself?” He smiled as he turned away. “Now, there isn’t a single thought in your head that I didn’t put there myself. Now be a good girl and play with yourself until you cum again, then go right to sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow night... in your dreams.” He picked up his scattered clothes and left.

Cooing softly, Vanessa slid her hands back down to her cunt. It felt so good... so good... so fucking good. Each rub of her clit sent another wave of pleasure through her body, unraveling her mind even more, peeling back another layer.

Layers upon layers.